


Perfect

by SableUnstable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marauders' Era, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 06:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12163683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SableUnstable/pseuds/SableUnstable
Summary: Sirius thinks Remus is perfect. Remus doesn't see it.





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from my FFnet account of the same name. I do not own Harry Potter. Enjoy!

"You're pretty damn perfect, you know that?" Sirius murmurs, tracing the scars that travel Remus's chest with both his eyes and his fingertips. Remus snorts softly, his own eyes on the canopy as he tries not to wiggle and fidget under the brief, grazing touch.

It tickles.

Can't let Sirius know that, however. He'd be giving him all the ammunition he needs.

"You're blind, Black," he says, the side of his mouth curling as his eyes flick to the head of thick, shaggy hair falling over his shoulder. Sirius has his chin resting on his upper arm.

Remus's arm had gone numb 10 minutes ago.

He wasn't going to tell Sirius that, either.

"I'm not," Sirius replies, looking up to meet Remus's amused gaze. "I see perfectly well, thank you very much. You're perfect, Moony."

The snort's louder this time, Remus rolling his eyes as his gaze shifts once more to the canopy of his bed -  _their_  bed, really. They hadn't slept apart in three months.

Remus doesn't know how he's going to handle having all that extra mattress space when seventh year ends.

They need to talk about that eventually.

His stomach twists

Not now, though.

"Oh, yes, I'm  _so_  perfect, Pads. My brain blows up things until they're all I can think about. I'm pretty much too timid to speak up when I disagree with something or someone, which leads to me following along instead of walking away like I should. I'm constantly afraid I'm going to lose what I have, or that you lot are going to realise how barmy you all are in befriending a werewolf. Oh, and did I mention that I turn into a slobbering, snarling, blood-thirsty beast once a month?"

"Yes, and you pick your perpetually dirty toenails in the common room, get crumbs in the sheets from the biscuits you sneak into bed when you think I'm not looking, and snarl at anyone who dares to touch your chocolate stash. So what? You're perfect."

Remus's eyes fly to the man next to him. "You know what perpetually means?" he asks after a moment of stunned silence, tone slightly faint. A smile ghosts across his face when Sirius snorts, lifts his head and grins at him.

"'Course I do. I've been bunking with you for seven years, haven't I?" he replies, grey eyes dancing as a pitch-black brow rises. Remus's smile flickers again and an expression serious enough to match his name softens the laughter in those hauntingly beautiful eyes. Rising up on his elbow, Sirius cups Remus's cheek.

"You are perfect, Rem," he says quietly, thumb drifting across the edge of Remus's cheekbone. Staring into his eyes, Remus's lungs stop working. "You make me laugh. All the time. You're such a sarcastic little shit, and no one appreciates that. You're kind, and your brave, and you're constantly thinking about others, to your own determent at times. You're so bloody smart, it makes me wonder how you put up with us all. You'd have to be the fittest bloke I've ever seen- what? You are to me, and isn't that the most important thing?" Sirius answers the eye roll and the huff of laughter that escapes with a lazy grin. He leans down presses his lips to the underside of Remus's jaw, his nose nudging gently against Remus's.

His breath is warm and smells like the roast beef they'd had for dinner.

"You're everything. You're everything to me, Moony. You're perfect."

Slowly, Remus smiles.

_No. You are._

"I thought James was your everything?" he teases, laughing quietly when Sirius pulls back, hand on his bare chest, and sends him a look of mock insult.

"You doubt my word, scoundrel? For that, you must pay!"

He falls forward and runs his fingers up and down Remus's sides, making the laughter increase in volume, and making Remus realise that he hasn't been so good at hiding his ticklishness as he'd thought he'd been. He laughs until his belly aches, then wraps his arms around Sirius and pulls him on top of him, trapping his arms so that the torture stops. Not seeming to mind being trapped this way, Sirius grins into the curve of his neck and snuggles in as close as he can, his body relaxing.

It's a long moment before Remus speaks, a soft breath of words in the warm, comforting safety their closed bed curtains provide.

"You're perfect as well."

Sirius's head lifts. "Oh, I know, Moony. You don't have to tell me."

Remus's bark of laughter rings through their space. "Egotistical much, Pads?"

Sirius grins. "You love it."

 _Yes. Yes, I do,_  Remus thinks as Sirius settles back against him again.  _I do love it._

"Love you, Padfoot."

"Love you more." Sirius's reply is muffled, his voice just beginning to sound sleepy. He sighs and shuffles in a bit, and Remus picks the exact moment he falls asleep.

He always does that. Knows exactly when Sirius goes down for the count.

With one last look at the comfort-lending canopy, and one last brush of his hand down Sirius's back, Remus closes his eyes.

Perhaps he'll be picking the moment that all settles and becomes calm -  _perfect_  - for years to come.

That's the goal, anyway.


End file.
